Balancing Act
Once Mary had a basket of eggs on her head
For an instant she jerked her head in wanton pride
Out fell the eggs, breaking them and her dreams
The upturned basket went rolling down the way.
For an instant she jerked her head in wanton pride
Out fell the eggs, breaking them and her dreams
The upturned basket went rolling down the way.
Someone down the lane, caught it for its beauty
A finely woven basket twined dexterously in and out
Marvelling at the shades of grey and brown
And turned it upside down to see it more
A finely woven basket twined dexterously in and out
Marvelling at the shades of grey and brown
And turned it upside down to see it more
Someone walking up the lane, looked long at it
Wondering what was that under the basket
Hen crouching on eggs to hatch a litter
Or was it an empty one with no promises.
Wondering what was that under the basket
Hen crouching on eggs to hatch a litter
Or was it an empty one with no promises.
Someone coming down with passion fruits in hand
Stopped to place three of it on the base with care
One more would have upset the balance on the base
It was not like filling a whole basket.
Stopped to place three of it on the base with care
One more would have upset the balance on the base
It was not like filling a whole basket.
Someone saw the three green round passion fruits
But not the basket, the winding vines of abundance
Of lost paradise and the trees of pride
A lost world of mankind’s disobedience.
But not the basket, the winding vines of abundance
Of lost paradise and the trees of pride
A lost world of mankind’s disobedience.
And so Mary’s basket rolled down the way
Balancing new thoughts and dreams
In the minds of many who passed that way
Fact and fantasy ploughing fertile minds.
Balancing new thoughts and dreams
In the minds of many who passed that way
Fact and fantasy ploughing fertile minds.
—Jameela Begum